


Out of the Dark

by fmpsimon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: Ironically, now that he is blind, Roy Mustang has never seen so clearly that what he has always needed is sleeping on his living room sofa.





	

                Roy Mustang awoke in the dark in his own bed.  The sun was up; he could feel the warm rays on his face.  But it was still dark.  That’s right.  He was still blind.  A sigh escaped his lips.  Just a few more days and he would have his sight back.  Fullmetal wouldn’t approve, certainly, but Riza was fine with it, and he could live with it if she could.

                He managed to get out of his bed all right.  The bathroom was a challenge.  He washed his face and found his toothbrush, but struggled to find the tube of toothpaste that he _knew_ was just next to the sink.  _Screw it_.  He threw on his robe and headed to the kitchen, a scowl on his face.

                He ran his hand along the wall, instinctively going for the light switch, and then he remembered he didn’t need light.  At least for the next couple of days.  He rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen.  Coffee.  He felt his way along the cabinets, opened one, and grabbed the canister of coffee grounds.  He smiled.  This blind thing wasn’t so hard.  He turned his head.

                _THUD_!

                “Damn it!” he said, pressing his hand to his forehead.  Mustang reached up, grabbing a hold of the cabinet door, and closed it roughly.  He sighed, trying to keep calm, leaving his hand on the cabinet.  He took a deep breath.  He could do this.  He just needed to get the pot.  Then it was easy: get some water, throw the coffee grounds in, and boil it.  He took another few steps and… _thud_!

                “Argh!  Damn it!  Who leaves a chair in the middle of the room?” he nearly shouted.

                He heard the sound of shuffling feet.  He had woken her up.  “If you wanted something, you should have just asked me,” Riza Hawkeye said sleepily.

                Mustang slid into the chair that had only a moment ago been his enemy.  “Lieutenant, I apologize for making so much noise.”  He rubbed his forehead and propped his throbbing foot up on his knee.

                He listened to her as she swept around the kitchen, and then he heard the stove turn on, the striking of a match, and the flame igniting.  He knew the sound so well.  It was a part of him.  “You shouldn’t have left the hospital,” she said matter-of-factly.

                “I’m not sick; I’m just blind.  And besides, it’s only for a few more days.”  He continued rubbing his sore foot.  “Just until Havoc gets his ass back here.”  He paused.  “And I wanted to thank you, Lieutenant.  You have been…indispensable.”  He waited for her response, but it never came.  Was that too impersonal?  Was it not enough?  No, of course not.  It wasn’t nearly enough.  He owed her his life a hundred times over.  Why couldn’t he have said _that_?

                She placed the coffee cup on the table in front of him, brushing against his arm.  “Here you are, sir.”  He reached for the cup, but she stopped him and guided his hand toward it.  “Don’t spill, now.”

                “Thank you, Riza,” he said.

                “You never call me that,” she smirked.  She poured herself a cup and the chair creaked when she sat down across from him.

                His eyebrows knitted together.  “You don’t like it?” he asked, and he couldn’t hide the worry in his face.

                “No, it’s fine,” she said quickly, with a small laugh.  “I’m just not used to hearing my name come your mouth.”  He nodded slowly, attempting to compose himself.  “I guess we _are_ off the clock,” she acquiesced.  “Maybe I should call you Roy instead of ‘sir.’”

                He wrinkled his nose.  “You’re right.  It does sound strange.”  He carefully lifted the cup to his lips and took a drink.

                “And how is it?” she said in a leading tone.

                Bitter.  “Perfect,” he said, smiling.  “Just the way I like it!”  Too over the top.  He gulped the rest of it down, ignoring how it burned when it slid down his throat.

                “More?” she asked, starting to get up.

                “No!  Thank you, I mean,” he said, jumping up himself.

                “Ha, figured.”  She sat back down.  They sat in relative silence the next few minutes.  She sipped at her coffee.  He fidgeted, listening.

                “Listen,” he began.  “About what I said earlier.”  She set the cup down.  “You’re more than just indispensable to me.  You’re the reason I’m even sitting here at all.”  He furrowed his brow.  “I’m afraid I owe you a debt that can never fully be repaid.”

                “Sir, it’s—”

                He reached across the table for her, his hand outstretched.  “Riza,” he said.  “If you’d let me, I’d like to try.”  He waited for what felt like forever.  Damn it, he wished he wasn’t blind.  He had no idea what she was feeling.  If only he could have sensed it.  He rested his palm on the table, angling his head down.  “The disadvantage to being blind is that I have no idea what kind of face you’re making right now,” he said, his cheeks flushed.  “You could be completely horrified or humiliated, or…or you could be silently laughing at me.”  He shrugged.  “I’m not sure which is worse.”

                After a moment, he felt her hand on his, and their fingers intertwined as if they had always meant to be that way.  A small gasp escaped his lips.  “I’m not laughing,” she said softly.  “I’m not horrified, and I’m not humiliated.”

                “You’re not?” he said, though it was more of a statement than a question.

                “I do have one question, though,” she said, moving closer to him without letting go of his hand.  He nodded, turning his head toward the sound of her footsteps.  “What took you so long?”

                She was standing next to him now.  Taking a gamble, he pulled her down and she fell into his lap.  She let out a yelp and threw her arms around his shoulders.  He ran his hands over the silky fabric on her back, his fingers brushed her neck, until they finally rested on her face.  His thumb brushed across her chin, and then her lips.  “Call me a late bloomer,” he murmured, pulling her in closer.

                _THWACK_!

                “Ah!” she cried out.  “You missed!”

                He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, which stung from colliding with her chin.  “What?!  I’m _blind_!  You should have adjusted to me!”

                “Oh, shut up, Roy,” she said, stopping his lips with a kiss.

                His lips lingered on hers for a moment, and he felt her smile as she pulled her head away.  But she didn’t go far.  He could still feel her warm breath on his cheek.  “So, maybe when I get my sight back, I can take you out properly.”

                “I don’t know,” she said, her tone teasing.  “I kind of like you this way.  I get to be in charge for a change.”

                He nodded, chuckling.  “What are you talking about?  We both know you were _always_ in charge.”

                The phone rang and they both started.  “I’ll get that,” Riza said, getting up.  She left the room.  “Colonel Mustang’s residence,” he heard her say into the receiver.  There was a long pause as the person on the other end spoke.  He felt his way along the wall until he was right beside her.  “All right.  Yes, the Colonel will be happy to hear that.”  She grasped his hand.  “Yes, he’s very anxious to be able to see again.”


End file.
